


need a king cobra

by serendipitee



Category: GOT7
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Crying, Knotting, Light Angst, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Secret Crush, heightened heat hormones
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-06
Updated: 2020-11-06
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:27:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27421183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/serendipitee/pseuds/serendipitee
Summary: “Do you?” Bambam’s voice drops, quiet in the crowded room. Jaebeom feels himself swaying closer. He smells so good, muted fir and moss and cinnamon under the cover of his new scent blockers. “Do you know?”Jaebeom’s tongue sticks to the roof of his mouth. “I — yes.”“Good,” Bambam says, conversational, and Jaebeom’s stomach clenches unconsciously.
Relationships: Kunpimook Bhuwakul | BamBam/Im Jaebum | JB
Comments: 33
Kudos: 108





	need a king cobra

**Author's Note:**

> title from [wap by cardi b and megan thee stallion](https://youtu.be/Wc5IbN4xw70):  
>  _I need a hard hitter, I need a deep stroker_  
>  _I need a Henny drinker, I need a weed smoker_  
>  _Not a garden snake, I need a king cobra_

Oh, this is bad.

Jaebeom swallows his spit.

This is really bad.

Bambam catches his eye from across the room in the middle of a smile, getting pats on the shoulder in good wishes. _You finally presented,_ Jinyoung had teased, _but being an alpha now doesn’t mean we’re gonna treat you any different, birthday baby_. Followed it up with a pinch on the soft rise of his cheekbone, fat that never really melted away even with the rest of his body recently veering closer to the slim, tall, wiry alpha he now is.

He looks like he could throw _Jaebeom_ around now. The realization thwacks Jaebeom in the back of the head, dizzying. Bambam must read something of it in his face, because his sweet smile edges into a smirk.

Warmth blooms under Jaebeom’s collar. Can he tell? Jaebeom wears extra-strong scent blockers already, likely to sweat them off when dancing or overwhelm his members in all the moments they spend too close together, back and forth to schedules and under stages. He realized he didn’t need to see Jackson and Mark smirking every time his cranberry-orange scent flared up a little around Bambam for the last few years.

Years. His pulse works overtime underneath the patch as Bambam disentangles himself from his well-wishers and shimmies across the room.

His blood sings into his cheeks, swirls low in his stomach. When Bambam stops in front of him, it’s almost hard to look him in the eye — but he manages, manages a warm grin and a firm pat against his face like the kid brother he used to see him as, before he realized just how much those feelings had changed. Bambam looks almost offended, but he also leans into it a little, cheesy and annoyed and whining “ _hyung,_ you can’t _do_ this to me anymore! I’m not a baby.”

“That’s what you think,” Jaebeom says, chucking him under the chin. “I still see that little kid that used to sit on all the noona’s laps.”

Bambam steps closer. Jaebeom wonders if he can hear the sharp, surprised inhale it drags out of Jaebeom when he realizes Bambam is taller than him, now. “I don’t do that anymore.”

“I know.”

“Do you?” Bambam’s voice drops, quiet in the crowded room. Jaebeom feels himself swaying closer. He smells so good, muted fir and moss and cinnamon under the cover of his new scent blockers. “Do you know?”

Jaebeom’s tongue sticks to the roof of his mouth. “I — yes.”

“Good,” Bambam says, conversational, and Jaebeom’s stomach clenches unconsciously.

* * *

His heat comes hours later. He throws it out into the ether of the group chat that he’ll be out for the next few days.

Jinyoung sounds unamused over the phone. “Can’t say I’m surprised.”

“Fuck you,” Jaebeom seethes, prickly with fever against his neck and forehead and chest and sinking in between his legs. He’s home, luckily, with the cats closed off in their room so they don’t have to see him like this: sweating already and leaking through his sleep pants onto his bed, blankets and flat sheet pushed to the foot of the bed to minimize the damage. He’s done this enough times on his own to know how it goes and be ready when it comes out of nowhere.

Jinyoung sighs. “That’s Jackson and Mark’s job, sorry. I’m not into other omegas.”

If Jinyoung could stop mentioning alphas whose knots Jaebeom was, at one point, intimately familiar with, that would be great. “Please hang up now.”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that,” Jinyoung says, a little gentler. “I was asked to look after you for a few minutes.”

“What?”

He hears the chime of someone keying in the code to his front door and startles when it opens. From a distance: “Jaebeomie hyung?”

Jaebeom goes woozy.

“Is he there?” Jinyoung sounds smug.

“I’ll call you back,” Jaebeom says almost as an afterthought, hearing Bambam pad into his apartment, dropping his phone. He barely hears Jinyoung bark a laugh and insist _don’t bother!_

Hearing him come down the hallway in socked feet makes Jaebeom’s heart hammer in his throat, nearly choking on it when he opens the door slowly, poking his head in. “Hyung?” He looks the same as always, makeup off, dressed down in a black tracksuit that’s a little tighter around his arms and legs and chest now, and Jaebeom...

Jaebeom feels a rush of slick ooze out of him. It’s mortifying, and Bambam must smell it even at that distance, and Jaebeom hides in his hands immediately, barely resisting the urge to scream in embarrassment. “God, I’m sorry.”

“No, no,” Bambam soothes from the doorway. “Hyung. Don’t apologize. I’m gonna check on the cats and then I’ll come back, okay?”

“Thank you,” Jaebeom calls weakly as he walks away. He glares down at his dick, the spot seeping through the front of his pants. “I hate you.” His dick, of course, doesn’t even flag. Shameless.

Being at the beginning of his heat makes everything a little too hot, fuzzy at the edges, desire simmering under his skin but not quite overtaking him yet, despite his body being ready and raring to go. Right now, he can still lie down and rest his eyes for a few minutes without needing a knotted plug to fill him up and make him whole. He dozes off.

It can’t be that much later when Jaebeom stirs, the slanting sunset lighting up the wall, but it feels like he’s still dreaming. Bambam smiles down at him, seated at the edge of the bed, and moves a lock of hair out of Jaebeom’s face like he was already in the process of sweeping it all back before he woke up.

“Happy birthday,” Jaebeom mumbles, muzzy with sleep. “Again.”

Bambam laughs, and it’s so quiet and gentle and careful. “Thank you. Again.”

“I didn’t want to steal your thunder on your birthday.”

A warm, soft thumb traces across his cheekbone. The tenderness cracks something delicate and small and strong inside Jaebeom’s heart. “Is that what this is?”

Jaebeom doesn’t know what to say, looking up at Bambam’s quirked eyebrow, the impish curve of his smile.

“It’s because of me, isn’t it,” Bambam says, not bothering to make it a question. Cocky bastard. “Because I presented.”

Jaebeom’s eyes well up in shame. “Bambam.”

Bambam squawks worriedly, shuffling to lie down on his side in front of Jaebeom, reaching out to squeeze one of his hands. He has cat fur on his black clothes. “Hyung, oh no, I’m sorry. What do you need? What can I —”

Jaebeom surges forward before he can stop himself, burrowing his face into Bambam’s neck. He can hide here, less embarrassed now than with Bambam staring at him with his big puppy eyes, and he can breathe in the woodsy, humid tannin of his scent. He can tell the blocker is gone by the way it permeates the air, mixes with Jaebeom’s sharp sweetness and settles somewhere at the base of his skull, soothing and smarting simultaneously, flaring when Bambam catches on and wraps arms around him at his waist and neck, tugging him close.

“This is fine for now,” Jaebeom murmurs after a few quiet minutes breathing each other in. “You don’t have to. Stay. Later.”

“Ah,” Bambam nods, his cool cheek brushing against Jaebeom’s. “Okay. But...do you want me to?”

Jaebeom is too distracted by the sweep of Bambam’s hand up and down his back, lulling, to answer right away. “Um. You don’t have to?”

Bambam pulls fondly on the ends of his long hair, and the quake of a tremor it sends through Jaebeom must be obvious. “Yes or no?” He slides up his grip, tightens his hold near Jaebeom’s scalp, and all of him is awash with tingles now. “Do you want me to stay?”

Jaebeom’s still reticent, somehow, so Bambam pulls, hard enough that he’s not in his hiding spot anymore, instead looking into Bambam’s darkening eyes. “Yes,” he groans, still held, scalp prickling.

“Good,” Bambam says, releasing his fist. “I would love to.”

“So you can lord it over me later? That you had me —” Jaebeom can barely feel his flush now, or the humiliation from earlier, something deep and abiding yawning open inside and swallowing everything that isn’t hunger for the man in front of him. The heat crawls in. “Like this?”

“I’m sure it’ll be fun to tease you,” Bambam acknowledges, amused at the way Jaebeom follows the shape of his mouth with his eyes. “But...I just want to. Want to be here. Want to see hyung like this for me.”

Jaebeom throbs and twitches at the phrasing. “For you,” he promises, leaning in to finally, finally kiss the smile off of Bambam’s lips. The soft warmth of his mouth is just how Jaebeom imagined. His heart thumps painfully, the last traitor in his body not falling into the sensation of heat. “Just for you.”

Things waterfall quickly after that. Jaebeom asks, between swipes of tongue that get increasingly deep and languid, whether he knows what this is going to be like, whether Bambam has done this before and tries to concentrate on the relief, not the sting, when it’s a yes. “There were more toys involved before...you know.” The admission just makes Jaebeom feel double: jealous and intensely, overwhelmingly horny for him. Or, at least, more so than he already was.

But Bambam’s mouth is hot and sweet and captivating, which is why Jaebeom barely notices Bambam tugging at the top of his sleep pants until they’re caught on his erection, both of them giggling clumsily into their kiss. “What about yours?”

“I’ll get to it,” Bambam says, kissing Jaebeom full and insistent, pushing him onto his back and peeling his waistband down over his ass. “Want to feel you first.”

“Oh.”

Every other word he can think of dissolves in his mouth after that, when Bambam shuffles in between his knees and drags his eyes all over Jaebeom with his gaze as heavy as a touch. He’s more gentle than Jaebeom ever sees him, almost reverent, as he pushes at the soft insides of Jaebeom’s thighs to open his legs.

It just makes the way he dips his long, spidery fingers down the slick underside of his balls, over his perineum and delicate around his entrance feel that much more mind-melting, turning the simmer of his arousal up high. “God, hyung, you’re soaking.” He looks up at Jaebeom from between his knees, eyes glowing almost like the way he used to look up at all of them, hero-worshipping. Jaebeom shudders, eyes closing before he can hurt his own feelings any further. "Can I—"

"Fuck me," Jaebeom hisses, letting the ground fall out from under him. "Bam, please, I need—"

Bambam hums in assent. Here again, he's gentle, sinking two fingers into the hungry furl of Jaebeom's hole steadily. Bambam groans and Jaebeom feels a shivering preen tickle down his spine at the approval. It’s not enough, exactly, the scraping heat low in Jaebeom’s belly begging for more and more and more, but his fingers are so much longer than Jaebeom’s. They go so deep — Jaebeom presses his hand under his bellybutton like he would be able to feel Bambam through — and when he curls his fingers, they hammer his prostate on the first try.

Jaebeom wants to be ashamed of the high little _ah_ it startles out of him, but he’s approaching nonverbal levels of needing to be filled, and Bambam spitting a curse and pulling his fingers out just to fuck them roughly back into him is a good reaction. For a while the only sounds are their unsteady, bated breaths and the squelching sound of Jaebeom’s hole being fingered wholesale, Bambam’s palm tapping against Jaebeom’s balls on the downstroke.

“Hyung is so tight,” Bambam says, and it sounds so dreamy Jaebeom feels like he’s floating. “Gonna feel so good around my cock, baby.”

“Oh my god,” Jaebeom moans, electrified. “Now, do it n—give it to me.”

Bambam huffs. “You’re not ready yet.”

Jaebeom contemplates bursting into tears. “Why?” He knows why; he’s been through heats before with other alphas, but each one brings him to this same place of whining need, of wanting to skip to the part where he’s stuffed full and good and brainless. Bambam is a good man — he is kind and gentle and sweet when he’s not busy making Jaebeom’s life harder in every conceivable way, and he just wants to take care of him and stretch him out before he. Before he….

Bambam is slowly sliding out of his tracksuit, pulling the jacket and pants off. Jaebeom doesn’t bother looking away, too busy soaking in every piece of him that he can see: the way his shoulders fill out even just a white t-shirt differently than before, the slim tuck of his hips in comparison, the strain of his boxer briefs holding his cock just out of sight. The yearning grows, and suddenly crying doesn’t seem like such a bad option.

When Bambam kneels back down on the bed, he cups Jaebeom’s face in his hands, laying a soft, sweet kiss on his bitten lips. “Trust me.”

“I trust you,” he breathes, “it’s just….”

“I know. But I want to be careful with you, hyung.”

He leans back to strip off the rest of his clothes and Jaebeom’s breath catches in his chest. He’s seen his friend without a shirt plenty of times, been subject to progress pics of his muscle gains the same as everyone else in the groupchat, but seeing the cut of his abs and the swell of his arms in his house, in his bed, is different.

As is the thick length of his cock, heavy between his legs. It’s big. Jaebeom tries not to stare, but, well. It’s almost as big as Jackson’s, long and pretty and smooth, and desperately pink. Jaebeom wonders idly if he could even fit it in his mouth.

“You’re drooling,” Bambam points out, voice low and teasing.

Jaebeom tears his eyes away with great difficulty. “And you want me to be patient _now?_ ”

Bambam smiles wickedly. "I know you can be good."

“Not for much longer,” Jaebeom grits out, ignoring the instinctual swirl of pleasure that ripples through him at the alpha’s compliment. The need to be touched and filled and owned and held and holding claws down Jaebeom’s spine, fucks with his head. “Come back.”

Bambam complies easily, soothing him with a kiss, pressing his hand against Jaebeom’s sternum to get him to lay flat again. Jaebeom thinks he must feel his heartbeat slamming against his palm. When Bambam pulls away to line his fingers up, the tacky separation of their lips is loud and lewd, and the wet slide of Bambam pressing a third finger into him makes Jaebeom melt into the bed. His eyes fall shut, focusing on the sensation and the way it takes the edge off the feral burn of his heat, even just for a moment.

“I’m sure I can make up for the wait,” Bambam says softly, breath ghosting across Jaebeom’s knee. He pecks wetly against the hinge.

In the next second, his mouth is dipping down around Jaebeom's throbbing cock. Jaebeom yelps, buzzing, and bucks instinctively, chasing the sensation of _wethotwarmcomecomecome_. Bambam clamps his unoccupied hand around Jaebeom's hip, fingertips bruisingly tight, nails digging into the meat of his ass, and Jaebeom slips, falls, stomach swooping as he comes messy and hard into Bambam's mouth.

"Jesus," Jaebeom groans, thighs twitching when Bambam doesn't pull off immediately. He opens his eyes, and if he hadn't come just five seconds earlier the sight of it would have been enough: Bambam's warm, mirthful eyes staring up at him with his thick lips still sealed around the head of his cock.

Hell, even so. His cock kicks a little and Bambam manages to look smug around it. "Fuck you. Fuck me."

Bambam pulls off just to laugh at him, eyes going soft when Jaebeom pets a hand through the messy sides of his hair. "Soon." He flicks his wrist and Jaebeom's hole shivers around his fingers. "God, look at you. You probably don't even need it now." He slips his fingers out only far enough to look down at the cascade of slick that oozes out of him and onto the sheet. "So easy, hyung. I bet I could stick my whole hand—"

Jaebeom yanks at his hair on reflex, stomach clenching hard at the suggestion, sparks flying around in his chest threatening a fire. He feels himself sink further into the heat like a swamp, weighing heavy on each of his limbs and coalescing like fog in his skull, loosening his tongue. "Please! Please, I need..." he cries, eyes actually burning now. "Al—Bam."

Bambam's gaze goes sharp and hot. "What?" He sits up, looming over Jaebeom, and fucks him deep and hard with four fingers, all together, when he doesn't know what to say to make up for his tongue slip. "What was that, hyung?"

Jaebeom can't manage anything but a moan in response, already edging toward another orgasm, clutching at the sheet for something to keep him tethered. Bambam doesn't let up on him, curling his fingers to press over and over on his prostate and asking, so low it sounds like a growl, "what were you gonna call me, baby?"

"Alpha!" Jaebeom's eyes screw shut as he comes again, spilling over his stomach and gushing out of his ass.

Bambam _snarls_ overhead, snatching his fingers away and flipping Jaebeom onto his belly so quick it makes him dizzy. His come sticks his stomach and his tender cock to the sheet only long enough for Bambam to peel his hips up and expose him further, spreading him at his center where the drip of his slick makes him shiver pitifully, sickly. "Say it again."

Jaebeom whines it into the bed. "Alpha, Bambam, _please._ "

" _Fuck_ ," Bambam spits, following it with a drag of sharp teeth across the surface of his ass and down the back of his thigh. He shuffles close, yanking Jaebeom back by his hips and rubbing the hot length of his cock between his cheeks, teasing his hole with the fat head. "Your alpha."

"Mine," Jaebeom sobs, eyes spilling over, wet creases on the sheet, as he's mounted.

Even with his body preparing him for this, even with his eagerness, it’s — so much.

Bambam’s panting, groaning. He keeps pulling Jaebeom back onto his cock slowly, and every single euphoric inch feels like too much, feels like it’ll be the one to stretch him just too far, feels like it will be the moment that makes him explode into a flurry of heat and tears and heart-shaped confetti.

He doesn't even realize Bambam’s bottomed out for a second, blissed out on being _fullfullfull_ until he leans over and presses a kiss to his neck. “Okay?” He sounds almost like a different person, voice deep and thick like honey, reassuring, checking to make sure the way Jaebeom is shaking and hiccuping isn’t a sign of too much.

It is, probably. Maybe. But that doesn’t convince Jaebeom’s body, tightening reflexively around Bambam so he can feel the thrum of his pulse all around his cock, making the alpha hiss. He pulls himself together, blinking hard and blurrily watching the tears plop into the sheet. “Yes, yes, god Bam, just keep going.” Jaebeom feels him rear back just a little, just far enough to have room to move, just far enough so he can fuck back into Jaebeom’s soaking wet entrance. He’s not even thrusting that hard and still the noise is deafening, ringing in Jaebeom’s ears.

Bambam huffs like he’s already out of breath. "I know you're made for this but…goddamn, baby." He pulls again at Jaebeom’s ass cheek, stretching his rim around his girth, pulling a long, high sound out of him. “Look so good taking me.”

Jaebeom’s head spins. He hadn’t prepared himself for the way Bambam seems dead set on pouring him over with praise, with words of sweet confidence and playful affection when he spends so much of his time normally being sharply teasing. They both do. It’s one of his favorite parts of having known Bambam so long that one of the ways they show they think and care about and value each other is through being absolutely whipping mean without hurting each other’s feelings.

But this is a special circumstance. Jaebeom’s in a state that Bambam’s never seen him in before. Jaebeom’s barely passing for human right now, overtaken by animal lust and adrenaline, hormones instead of a working frontal cortex to tell him that doing this, with the person he wants the most in the world, is a fucking stupid idea.

He starts picking up the pace, rocking slowly. Even just like this, the size of him inside is so overwhelming that every smooth, careful thrust pushes these shameful little noises out of Jaebeom’s mouth, like Bambam’s cock is pressing up on his diaphragm and making him sing. He smooths a hand down Jaebeom’s spine, skin so cool in comparison to Jaebeom’s fever, and rests it around the nape of his neck. Just the added bit of pressure makes him feel like he’s being pounded face first into the mattress when Bambam’s hips slowly speed up and start clapping against his ass.

His eyes roll in his head at the feeling of being used, back arching even further. Bambam’s delicate hold on him sharpens for a second at the offering, nails digging into his skin briefly but painfully. "So eager to get filled up,” he pants, not slowing for a second. “Are you like this for the others? Or am I special?"

The mention of anyone besides the alpha screwing him blind in that moment dissolves any form of self-preservation Jaebeom had left, mouth open and crying wretched sounds sideways over the top of the sheet. “I haven’t — in a long time. Special. Only you.”

The slapping of Bambam’s thrusts falters.

Jaebeom whines loud, gathering whatever strength he has left to prop up on his elbows so he can fuck himself back onto his cock. Bambam recovers, curses and grips his hips in both hands, pulling him back and forth to bounce on it. He envisions himself as just a toy in his alpha’s hands, small and tight and wet and ready to be used, and the thought burns through him, sits hot and low in his belly. “Bam,” he moans, tongue unwieldy, not able to say it outside of the desperation in his tone.

“What is it? Baby, what do you need?”

Jaebeom nearly weeps at the pet name. He’s so on edge from the pass of Bambam’s cock on his prostate, from the way it feels like his guts are being completely rearranged and put back together in a new order. He grasps for his right wrist, pulling it around toward his aching cock.

“Oh, poor thing,” Bambam chides softly, taking him in hand. “I’ve got you.” Despite needing the touch, it almost hurts — the tacky, drying come covering him sticks to Bambam’s palm and spindly fingers and makes the slide of his fist chafe.

Nevertheless, Jaebeom finds himself entirely caught, trapped between fucking into Bambam’s hand and sliding back onto the thick length of him. The razor’s edge of pain scrapes up his spine, and when Bambam adjusts his grip to swipe quick and tight underneath the tender head of his cock, Jaebeom yowls his name and comes.

It drips through Bambam’s fingers in a weak dribble as he keeps working Jaebeom’s cock, pulling his orgasm out stretchy and burning, magma in his veins. He yelps again, wordless and whining, and Bambam closes his fist gently around all of him, squeezing one last time before Jaebeom collapses.

Despite having done almost none of the work, Jaebeom is panting and shaking like he just ran a marathon, sweat and come pooled underneath him. He melts a little into the sheet despite the puddle, sighing.

Bambam chuckles warmly and dips down to mouth wet kisses along the line of his shoulders, at the knobs of his spine. His bangs tickle above the path of his mouth. “You’re doing so well, hyung.”

Jaebeom feels like he could purr.

Despite the sensation of his heat finally catching up to him and thrumming right under his skin, he shivers a little. Bambam’s cock kicks inside at the sensation, and they groan in harmony. “Cold,” Jaebeom finally manages.

Bambam clicks his tongue, concerned, and jostles him just a little bit moving around before he’s laying down against his back, knees bracketed right outside of Jaebeom’s. He’s not suddenly massive just because of his presentation, and he doesn’t cover every inch of Jaebeom’s broad torso, but he’s weighty and radiantly warm, skin smooth and soothing against the chill like a favorite blanket. It’s surprisingly comfortable to be squished.

Bambam runs hands down the back of his arms and slides his long fingers over Jaebeom’s hands. They tangle with Jaebeom’s, and Jaebeom can’t stop his dopey smile into the covers. He feels Bambam press one of his own against his spine. “Better?”

Jaebeom hums, turning his head a little just so Bambam can hear him better, but Bambam leans in and pecks softly at the corner of his mouth.

It fans the fire in the bottom of his stomach that quelled slightly with his exhaustion. He turns into the kiss further, plying at Bambam’s swollen lips with his tongue.

Bambam makes a soft, urgent sound low in his throat. “Hyung,” he says against his mouth, tightening his hands. “You don’t want a break?”

“Want you. Want your knot.”

“Fuck.” Bambam kisses him hard. “Are you sure?”

Weak, instinctual tears leak out of the corners of Jaebeom’s eyes. “Alpha,” he blubbers.

Bambam growls deep in his chest. He slides his hold down around Jaebeom’s wrists and uses them to keep Jaebeom still when he pulls out just to fuck back inside. It’s a different angle, spearing into Jaebeom even more deeply than before, and he doesn’t know what else to do but to lose himself in it, hanging off of every long, even stroke and trying not to get overwhelmed by the tingling, oversensitive sensation of fullness.

“God, baby, you feel so good,” Bambam moans, hot against the back of his neck. The hair on Jaebeom’s nape stands on end even despite the warmth, and he arches under Bambam’s mouth like an offering.

There’s no way Bambam’s gonna bond-bite him even though he’s brand new to being an alpha, even though the haze of heat is making it sound like the only option to Jaebeom. He finds himself whining and stretching for it, settling only when Bambam licks a long stripe against the curve of his neck and shoulder. It’s about as much as he can manage when he’s still fucking Jaebeom deep and thorough, gasping against his skin with bared teeth.

Someday, Jaebeom thinks blurrily. For now he can settle for the growing pressure at his swollen rim, the way Bambam’s hands are punishingly tight around his wrists, the way his breathing sounds so uneven and that Jaebeom is the one that got him like that.

“Next round,” Bambam pants at the end of a thrust, rolling his hips just so Jaebeom can feel him thickening at the base, “next round we’re doing this on your back. So I can see how pretty and wrecked you get on my cock.”

Jaebeom keens, drooling down his chin. His pulse thrums in every part of his lower body, throbbing in his spent cock smushed between the sheet and his hips as it gets rubbed back and forth in his drying spunk and sweat by the sway of Bambam’s strokes. It’s almost enough.

Almost, almost. Bambam is grunting on every downstroke overhead, hips moving messier than before, knot swelling and swelling bigger on every pass. Every time it kisses against his rim Jaebeom thinks that’s it — this is the one to lock them together, this is the one that’s gonna feed his hungry hole the way he really needs it to be fed. His ass squelches, outpouring slick. “Please….”

Bambam shudders, edging his knot inside Jaebeom only to rear back.

“Bambam,” Jaebeom weeps, rocking back against him. “Give....”

“Jaebeom,” Bambam groans into his skin, breathless. He noses into his neck. “Omega.”

He thrusts forward, pressing and pressing and pressing and Jaebeom screams, tears sliding down his cheeks as Bambam’s knot stretches him open and open and open until he’s — he’s — he’s tightening back around the base of it and and and —

Bambam sinks his teeth into Jaebeom’s shoulder as he comes hot and sticky, fully seated, inside of Jaebeom and Jaebeom, shattered, comes dry one last time before sinking. Spots of light dance behind his closed eyelids, and then — nothing.

* * *

Jaebeom dreams about the day he noticed.

Noticing was easy, like putting on a new glasses prescription and seeing better. Realizing his feelings, it seems, was an entirely different process; full of other embarrassments that couldn’t fit into the space of a single postcoital nap — a series of self-denials and confusions that ultimately lead to the only answer there could be, the only answer there ever was.

They were in Busan for a festival, holed up in a green room before their set. Mark and Jaebeom were prodded into doing their GOT2Day episode up against the wall, and the habitual, screaming laughter that always seemed to follow their tangle of friends. Mark’s perennially gentle coddling of him had only grown stronger in the months following his presentation — never untoward, but protective and sweetly teasing, noticing things.

It made Jaebeom’s neck hot in a way he wasn’t used to. Made him more aware of himself in ways that he hadn’t been before; before, when the things that he couldn’t stop being preoccupied by now didn’t exist, when he could have a crush without feeling it pulling instinctually at his insides. Being around an alpha that he’d known so long, who’s pretty face was so embedded in his mind by sheer virtue of seeing it nearly every day for the past seven years, made him inescapably warm.

When he left Jaebeom after their filming to pester Jinyoung, pouting in the mirror at an errant cowlick of hair utterly defying gravity, Jaebeom’s side went cold. The familiar swell of stage fright came trickling back in without the distraction.

But a distraction laid his head across Jaebeom’s lap. “Hyung,” Bambam said, nose in his phone. Despite the prop, his unmoving gaze was a dead giveaway, ice blue contacts locked in the same place as he seemed to think through what to say. “What’s it like? Presenting?”

Jaebeom thought of his presentation — waking up soaking through his boxers like he had during his first years as a teenager, only this time it was coming from a different spot. Other than that — “Kind of like any other birthday. Only with, you know. Different. Functions,” he coughed awkwardly.

“It doesn’t make you only horny for alphas?”

“Keep your voice down,” Jaebeom hissed, poking none-too-gently at the soft apple of his cheek. “No. Well.... No. I think it’s just different.”

Bambam had lowered his phone, forgetting his embarrassment. Instead, the unnatural shine of his eyes was directed solely at Jaebeom as he stuttered through his explanation.

He stared, and Jaebeom found himself trapped in it, looking back. Taking in the things the other boys had slowly started to notice and tease Bambam about — his baby fat melting off of his face, the full, pink swell of his lips, the way his tapered waist looked in a suit with a leather belt cinch. “Okay,” Bambam said, skeptical. His eyelashes fluttered a little at Jaebeom’s uneven breaths across his face. “When it happens, I can come to you though, right? For help?”

Jaebeom tried to shake off the weight of his stare. It only kind of worked. “Of course you can.”

* * *

When Jaebeom comes to, it takes a moment for him to register that everything in his entire body aches. It's a familiar hurt, but it never gets less annoying to feel it, almost as sore from the creeping, lasting heat in his cells as he is from getting fucked wordless and dumb.

The second thing is Bambam, spooned up against his back and still knotted inside of him. His hips twitch a little every now and then, sensitive, filling Jaebeom with another wave of come. His arm is wrapped around Jaebeom's middle, hand slithered up onto his chest to rest right over his heartbeat.

Jaebeom must have been shivering in his sleep, because the sheet he had carefully kicked out of the way earlier was draped over them. "I didn't want to get this dirty."

Bambam makes a surprised, sleepy noise, then hums, nuzzling at Jaebeom’s nape. "I'll wash it for you."

"You don't have to," Jaebeom insists, waking up more now. He can feel the embarrassment of everything that happened before creeping in with the heat temporarily subsided. "I didn't — that wasn't why I said that."

“I know. Just let me take care of you, Jaebeomie hyung.”

Jaebeom fights the hormonal, instinctual flare of overwhelming content that brings, eyes burning from fresh hurt. “I already stole your first knot.”

“No, you didn’t. I gave it to you.” Bambam’s breath flutters against the back of his neck. “I wanted it to be you.”

Jaebeom is at a loss for words, the lump of feeling growing high in his throat.

“I never thought—” Bambam tightens his arm around Jaebeom’s waist, knocks his forehead gently against the back of his skull. “I know you only do this with alphas, and I didn’t. I wasn’t one before. I always wanted it to be you.”

“Bambam,” Jaebeom says, voice wobbling and hoarse. “What are you saying?” His mouth runs faster than he can stop it. “I would have —”

Of course he would have. Nothing could have stopped Jaebeom from loving him.

“Hyung,” he whispers back in a quiet, sure voice, so different from the rough tenor before, “I used to dream about this. Holding you like this and making you feel good and taking care of you.”

Jaebeom is crying again before he can help it. Bambam feels him shake and shuffles impossibly closer, like the molecules of air between them are too much distance. “I love you.”

Bambam breathes in sharp through his nose, making a wet sound of his own that Jaebeom thinks might be a teary laugh. “Jaebeom,” he calls over his ear, and kisses him full and tender and adoring when he turns his head. “I love you too,” he murmurs, soft and true against his lips.

**Author's Note:**

> *waltzes in donning a silk robe and long cigarette holder with no cigarette in it* oh hello there everyone
> 
> long time no see!! i hope u enjoy this bit of fun in the midst of the.................Everything, right now. i'm hoping to write more now that i'm getting a handle on graduate school so stay tuned~ ♥


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